Filth in the Beauty
by minorriots
Summary: Obsessions, obsessions... How far they can lure a lost sheep in?" /SasoDei, AU, PG-15, violence, implied sex, cigarettes. Not romance. Something far but close to it. Anything else?


I CHEATED ON THIS ONE. But you won't know how.  
Listen to VAST song 'Pretty When You Cry' while reading this. It will help you to settle in the mood (as much as I did while writing this).  
Since this is AU, I shall excuse Sasori's 'humanness' by that.  
Oneshit. I meant, oneshot, featuring Sasori and Deidara

**Disclaimer:** *sings the 'If you wish you owned Naruto characters, Clap your hands!' song*  
.... *claps hands***  
**

_________________________________

That was an obsession. Yet another excessive thoughts about something. Persisting ideas, which kept burning in his mind. Beauty. He was obsessed with it – beauty. Beautiful sights, gestures, people, the qualities, which gave pleasure to his senses. He was desperate to be in such environment. He wanted, craved more of it, always searching for it. And he wasn't afraid of any form of it, just as simple as it was.

"Hey, look at this, I found this guy yesterday," a male with black hair and maliciously shining eyes said out loud in room, where was no-one but him. He waited for some seconds, continuing to eye the screen in front of him, not getting any answer he waited for. A loud yell was heard again, this time in more impatient tone, "Sasori, hey, if you're not coming, I'll close this page and you will truly regret it!"

"What is it, Itachi? I'm currently trying to find my new set of sake cups."

Itachi noticeably grinned at the reply, but he didn't say anything at that matter. "Some seconds won't hurt, right? Look, I found one really cute guy on the internet, I think you might be interested in him."

"Yeah, I think I found those cups, coming!"

This said Sasori went in the small living room and made his way to the chair next to Itachi's. After some click sounds computer's mouse made, he had already fixed his look at a picture on the screen and a slight smile on his lips.

Lips, _his_ lips, were full, beautifully shaped, corners of them bent slightly down. One visible eye looking at left direction and in color unusual for Japanese – the sky blue. The hair was in unusual color too, blonde, almost as white as the first snow, except it wasn't glowing. His skin was though, the same graceful whiteness seen in it. Sasori furrowed his eyebrows when he concluded he couldn't see more than those slim shoulders, which were covered by black shirt, but it wasn't much of problem – he already understood what kind of person he looked at. Something he searched for. Something beautiful. Something he wanted to claim.

"But the text here written is weird," Sasori joined the eyebrow furrowing activity, as he scrolled the page.

_"I don't care who you are, what do you do, what kind of mark you had at Physics. For one night I can really not care about it._

_I warn you. Some of us might wake up hurt. I have my fantasies."_

Weird, that's what Itachi called this. But it had words connected as 'mysterious' and 'intriguing' tagged along in Sasori's mind, which urged him to know more about this person. It was his obsession which urged him. His little, sick obsession.

It wasn't long until Sasori found himself clicking on 'Message Now' button and typing some words, which were meant to arrange a meeting. But it was a long time when Sasori found himself not thinking of this person he wanted to meet. This brainstorm of unstoppable chain of thoughts started to end at moment, when he was standing in a park next to a fountain. The crimson lock owner had already stood there for some minutes, looking at his reflection in a puddle, some small girl running around, laughing and blowing bubbles, a seagull which had flew its way mystically to this park and all so not important things. But then his gaze switched to something else.

Sasori's corners of lips curled up in a malicious manner when he saw a tall figure making its way to the fountain. A person with honey blonde hair. It was…

"Deidara?" Sasori called out, hoping that the blonde would hear him and respond. Thankfully for the scorpion, he really came to him and bowed slightly.

"Hello. As you already know, I'm Deidara, yeah. And you were Sasori?"

Sasori bowed back, "Yes, my name is Sasori. I have already used to peole calling me Master of the Puppets, but I won't really mind you calling me like this.

Deidara smiled politely and nodded, as he played with his strands of hair hanging in front of the half of his face. "Well then, we should be going, shouldn't we? Park is not the best place for," he paused as he looked at Sasori's lower part of body while licking his lips, "…knowing more about each other, isn't it."

Sasori looked at the girl running around, "I think so too."

"Sorry for intruding," Sasori said as he entered the small apartment, before Deidara went to door and locked it with two keys. The scorpion raised his eyebrow at this act, but didn't say anything. Maybe this was how the short man felt safer, somehow.

"You can sit down somewhere, yeah. I will bring out the drinks," Deidara said when he disappeared in kitchen, at least it seemed so.

Sasori didn't mind this kind of familiarity, it actually felt like making things easier, so he just came deeper in this apartment he was in and sat on a leather couch, not caring about consequences. He was already aware what this meeting was for. People didn't usually meet and go to their house at the first time. Moreover, in the evening. But he didn't care even the slightest. He knew he couldn't feel this person's beautiness in other way. This was the only way of accomplishing it.

Suddenly the sand blonde came in the room with a big bottle of wine and two glasses. "Here, I thought this would be good enough, yeah," he said as he was putting the glasses down the table.

Sasori eyed the bottle and said more to himself, "Hm, not bad. I know this year." He raised his head in direction of Deidara and said markably, "You've got good taste at alcohol."

"Thanks."

The next hour passed quickly. Too fast. Those minutes had passed almost as fast as speed of light, the only difference was, those minutes leaved more viewable result. Or as it was to Sasori and Deidara, more _feel able_.

The alcohol, Deidara's crawling on top of him, his hot breath against neck, those sloppy kisses and the pale hand clutching at his black shirt, it all made Sasori so dizzy, that he could see everything only through his eyelashes. He felt his body moving on its own, switching places with Deidara, leaving the tall blond at bottom, searching for the bottomed one's growing erection. Just when Sasori had unzipped the other's pants, Deidara said in irritated tone, "Hey, stop, I need to have a smoke, yeah."

"What? In a moment like this? Can't your lungs hold up a bit?" Sasori said through his teeth. Seriously, what this boy had in his mind?

"I said I need to smoke," Deidara brushed Sasori's hand away, pushed him away against the back of the couch and got up.

Sasori glared and rubbed his arm he had hit against the couch. No matter how weak and thin the man over there was, no-one could've ever guessed strength of his.

After a minute or two, Deidara came back in the room and stood in middle of it, his cigarette still in his hand.

"What are you waiting for? Finish it already and come back."

Deidara didn't seem to hear Sasori. He just stood there, smiling slightly and carefully looking at Sasori's neck. The other man didn't like the way Sasori looked at him now. Deidara's visible eyes was narrow, his hand lifted up a little bit as if he was aiming for Uruha, and more importantly, that smile. It wasn't that beautiful smile that flashed several minutes ago. It was something different.

Deidara crawled up to Sasori again, his cigarette now in his teeth, but body somehow under the shorter man again. He took another smoke, blew it in Sasori's face and said calmly, "Take it."

"Take what?" Sasori was confused for a moment. Then he understood what Deidarai had meant – the cigarette. Not quite understanding the point of it, Sasori took it in his left hand's fingers and played with it for a moment. "And?"

"Press it."

"What?"

"Press it against my skin, yeah."

Sasori widened his eyes. What had this blond asked him? To press this, whoever knew this degree, hot cigarette to the pale white skin of Deidara's? To make a burn?

"Is this some kind of stupid joke?"

To ruin this beautiness?

Sasori's movement went slow for a moment. No, this could not be a ruining, actually. Cigarette burns, it somehow made him picture an image with Deidara being in white room, his slender hands over his knees. A sheet. Yes, maybe a sheet or some kind of fabric over his naked body, bringing attention to his face, which would be covered with pearls. Small, shining pearls running over his cheeks, stopping the dripping at the moment it would make a contact with the soft fabric. And then a fragment of his back. In the whole white image, the only deep color of red in shape of flowers would be flowing on his back, as if trying to grow bigger by every second. The beautiful, ever lasting composition made of cigarette burns, lasting for the rest of his life. Would it really look as Sasori had imagined?

The moment he re-awoke in reality was because of a scream. He looked down and saw his hand holding the lit cigarette and pressing the hot end of it against Deidara's skin.  
Deidara's eyes were squeezed, palms clutching at the sheet and mouth open in scream. Not finding any other way of shutting the other up, Sasori closed the distance between them as he let his lips cover Deidara's and tongue suppress the other one. He didn't stop his hand movement though, just as he dug the cigarette deeper in Deidara's skin, he stifled the upcoming cry with his tongue by sliding it even deeper inside Deidara's mouth, ignoring all the pain sand blonde had to endure.

Sasori's dominant position was ruined soon as Deidara pushed him away, second time this day. "You little fucker, yeah," Deidara smiled through his pain before he switched his position, lay his hands in area near collarbones and dug his medium length black nails in Sasori's hot skin.

"You know, it's usually the other way around. I don't look like it, but I'm the one who likes hurting people. I don't mind you being on top though,"Deidara looked with delight at the red line-like scratches he made on Sasori's skin, making a contrast with his hair.

"Good," Sasori said simply, laid his arm around Deidara's neck and kissed him again, the other one trying to find its way to Sasori's bent leg and starting to rub his thigh after finding it.

"Because…" Sasori moved his always cold hands, even despite his body temperature, under Deidara's shirt and trailed them along his back slowly. He chuckled a bit at Deidara's fast shivering, when he shut up because of Deidara's tongue going again in his mouth, this time with a full force.

Sasori stood like this, enjoyed this sweet sugar like moment, then took his initiative and switched over, again, as it was a normal routine.

"… you would look so pretty if you were mine."

And Deidara did, in Sasori's opinion. The way Deidara looked like when he had those cuffs around his wrists and blindfold on his eye, across the mechanical piece of steel. The way blonde moaned when his nipples were pulled, sucked on and lastly – bitten at. The way he arched his head back when Sasori pulled himself rough into that wanting body. It all looked so beautiful, so right. Just by looking at Deidara made Sasori want to make him dirtier. He somehow remembered the line he had misheard from one song – "I'm clean, I'm clean, filth me." But he knew Deidara wasn't clean, he was as filthy as Sasori was, with all those sick requests and small games he lured Sasori in to play. He was even filthier, which seemed kind of attractive to Sasori, who didn't want to stop.

"Just don't die from bleeding," he said in a softer tone than usual.

"Well, it would be something new to die during the sex. And maybe in the end you would turn out a necrophile, yeah, speaking of that always-lasting beauty of yours!" Deidara replied in his usual manner, which Sasori had learnt to love. And not only this manner, but every part of his body, his voice, the way he looked at and his thoughts he had heard earlier. Sasori had almost forgotten to add in his mind, his taste of alcohol too.

When Deidara couldn't hold up anymore and collapsed to the couch, his eyes got shut, mouth stood slightly open while ribcage moved up and down rapidly. That carefully applied make-up and fierce hair was a past now, just as much as Sasori's.

While being in sitting position at the edge of the couch and panting heavily, Sasori observed the man next to him. All those red lines, small blood, loose blindfold which was hanging on Deidara's neck and deep cigarette burn couldn't hide the child which was showing out through some tears which were hiding in corner of his eye. His screams which held a sad tone in it. The feeling like he was trying to redeem something by this suffering.

Sometimes beauty held some part of filth in it too.

_Like an abused child…_

____________________________  
_


End file.
